


Synchronicity

by ExpressAndAdmirable



Series: The Heroes of Light [65]
Category: Dungeons & Dragons (Roleplaying Game), Dungeons & Dragons - All Media Types, Final Fantasy I
Genre: Angst, Gen, Magical Tattoos, Recovery, Self-Reflection, Tattoos, Tiefling
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-03-01
Updated: 2018-03-01
Packaged: 2019-03-25 10:16:01
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,055
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/13832067
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/ExpressAndAdmirable/pseuds/ExpressAndAdmirable
Summary: Lux makes a new friend and finds a way to heal.





	Synchronicity

**Author's Note:**

> Su was loosely based on my dear friend K, of [SystemGlitch](http://archiveofourown.org/users/SystemGlitch/pseuds/SystemGlitch). She is a very good human and wears absurdly long ear tips when we LARP.

Aviva froze in her tracks. Of all the things she had expected to see nestled among the newly constructed buildings and stalls covering the labyrinth of boardwalks that was Crescent Lake, this particular tent had not been one of them. She was so convinced she’d hallucinated that she actually rubbed her eyes and looked again. It had been an excruciatingly exhausting few days and it would not have surprised her to discover her mind playing tricks. Yet there it stood, sun-faded and drab, blessedly familiar amongst the strangeness. She set off toward it, her pace increasing with each step; by the time she threw open the tent flap, she was nearly at a run.

“Mae!”

It was just the same as she remembered: richly patterned rug covering the wooden planks beneath, a pile of pillows at the centre with a cut-glass lamp hanging above, altar standing at attention in one corner, the air heavy with ink and incense. An otherworldly oasis amid the bustle of the village outside. But the person who jumped and turned to greet her was not Mae.

“Oh!” Aviva stopped short of throwing her arms around the figure. “I’m sorry. I thought–”

“No no,” the woman replied even as she shied away from the almost-hug, her dark eyes wide and startled. “It’s alright. You’re, ah, you’re not wrong, this is Mae’s tent. You found it!” She wiggled her fingers in awkward celebration. She was petite even for an Elf, almost childlike, her slight figure hidden by an oversized blue shawl. Her scalp, shaved clean but for a dark mop of hair at the crown, was a mural of intricate black linework extending in elegant tendrils down her neck and disappearing into the collar of her tunic. “Are you a client?” she asked, then paused, squinting for a moment until realisation struck. “Wait, are you… You’re Lux! The Hero of Light!”

“Aviva,” the Tiefling responded without thinking, starting at how easily her given name rose to her lips. Halei, Elerian and Cid all used it, but she had not realised how reaccustomed she had become to hearing it – and how much she had missed it. “I’m a client and a friend. Is Mae here?”

The Elf’s expression fell. “No. Not right now. She’s…” She trailed off, a brief internal debate playing across her face, then she sighed, her slender shoulders sagging. “In truth, I haven’t seen her in some time. She just disappeared one day. Left everything set up–” she waved a hand at the tent around her, “–and vanished, about a year ago.” She looked up at Aviva, trying her best not to seem hopeful. “Have you seen her? In your travels?”

Aviva shook her head, a quiet sadness creeping into her heart. “No. But I have a feeling I know where she is.”

“You do?” The Elf cocked her head, long ears twitching. “You… don’t sound happy to say that.”

“No,” Aviva answered honestly, “I’m not. But if it helps, I don’t think any harm has come to her.” She offered a small smile. “I think she’s okay.”

The Elf folded her arms as if against a chill, her gaze dropping from Aviva to the altar in the corner. “She was Called, wasn’t she?”

Aviva opened her mouth, then closed it again, unable to hide her shock. “Yeah,” she said finally. “I think she was.” She chewed her lip. “How do you know about the Calling?”

“She told me.” The Elf sat heavily on a large cushion, gesturing for Aviva to join her on the pile of pillows. “She’d been having weird dreams for awhile. She said she could feel something… tugging at her, whispering in the back of her mind. She started to get irritable, snapping at me and at clients, and started to draw this round six-spoked sigil in her sketches–”

“What did you do with those sketches?” Aviva leaned toward the smaller woman, her voice suddenly deadly serious. “Do you still have them?”

“I– I burnt them, after she left.” The Elf looked nervous. “They were making me uncomfortable. They felt… I dunno, wrong. Is that bad?”

Taking a deep breath, Aviva softened. “No. That was probably the best thing you could have done. The forces of Chaos are doing everything they can to tear the world apart, sowing fear and madness wherever they touch. Anything you can do to combat that, even something as seemingly insignificant as burning their sigil, helps.”

“Well, that’s why we’re all here, right?” The corner of the Elf’s mouth quirked into a lopsided smile. “To do what we can to help you on your quest.”

Aviva huffed, her eyes following the patterns on the rug at her feet. “Yeah.” Their quest. Their grand bloody destiny. Everyone in Crescent Lake, putting themselves in danger to help her merry band. “I’m sorry Mae’s not here,” she murmured. “Truly. Are you two…?”

The Elf frowned in curious confusion, then shook her head with a chuckle. “No, nothing like that. I’m her apprentice– ah, _was_ ,” she corrected herself sadly. Then she held out her hand. “I’m Aesuithiel. Mae always called me Su.”

With a smile, Aviva shook her hand. “That’s a beautiful name.” She paused, tracing the root of a familiar word. “Means ‘birdlike’, yeah?”

“You speak Elvish!” Su sounded impressed.

“Surprisingly useful language,” Aviva grinned. She glanced around the tent as an idea began to form in her mind. “Are you set up to work?”

Su spread her arms wide. “Yes, absolutely. Are you interested in something? I’m not as fast as Mae, so it will take a bit longer and probably hurt a bit more, but it would be an honour to tattoo a Hero of Light.”

Aviva shook her head quickly. “Please, no. I don’t want to be a Hero of Light today. It’s fucking exhausting.” She smiled softly. “I want something for me. I _need_ something for me.” A wave of anxiety stopped her words. She looked at Su, watching her with the same gentle focus she always saw in Mae, and she exhaled slowly. “The past few days have been… really hard. I mean, we knew they’d be trying, but… not like this, not for me. I feel like I’ve been torn open. These wounds are so deep and so old that I can’t remember a time they weren’t there, but they’re open all the way to the surface now and they’re bleeding and raw and I can’t stop screaming. But I need to heal. I’ve been burned to cinders and I need to rise from those ashes. If I want to take care of the people I love, I need to take care of myself. So I need something that will remind me of that.”

“From the ashes,” Su murmured, nodding to herself. “I think that’s where we can begin. Where were you thinking?”

“Here.” Aviva spread a palm against her chest. “I have a small piece here–” she pressed her fingers into her sternum, “–but the space above is entirely open.”

“I can work with that. Do you pray?”

“Yeah.”

Su tilted her head toward the altar. “Why don’t you take a few minutes while I start to get something sketched out? Meditate, take a nap; do what feels right for the time being.”

With a nod, Aviva rose from the pillows and stepped around them to kneel in front of the low table, taking in the mingled scents of incense and dried herbs. She would do whatever was needed to protect those dearest to her heart, but first she needed to ensure she could include herself among that number. The small statue of a nondescript deity greeted her impassively, and for the first time, she took in its smooth expression and neutral posture. “I never did ask,” she said, peering over her shoulder at Su, “who is this idol supposed to be?”

Opening her sketchbook, the Elf smiled. “Whoever you need it to be.”

* * *

“Hey, friend. Welcome back.”

Conscious but deeply disoriented, Aviva sat up and rubbed her eyes. Incense and ink and dappled light. Mae’s tent. “Was I asleep?”

Su nodded. “For a little while. How are you feeling?”

“Ready.” Aviva stretched, cracked her back and turned to face the Elf, still seated on her cushion. “How’s it coming?”

“Perfect timing, actually; I’m just about… done.” Holding her pencil between her teeth, Su turned the sketchbook around and held it up for Aviva to see.

Aviva stared at the drawing for a long time, turning it over in her mind, one hand moving to her chest; when she spoke again, she found her mouth had gone dry. “Yeah.”

“Okay.” Su removed the pencil from her mouth and set it on the low table beside her, followed by the sketchbook. “Let’s get you set up. Remove your top, please.” Aviva did as instructed, unbuckling her belt and slipping her kurta over her head, and Su smiled as the creeping vines, swirling music and other inked designs revealed themselves on her arms. She peered at the runes adorning the Tiefling’s sternum. “‘The sacred from the profane.’ That’s a powerful charm.”

“You speak Infernal?” It was Aviva’s turn to be impressed.

“Mae,” Su answered simply. “Do you need to cover up?”

Aviva snorted. “Funny story. I had kidnapper-assassins come after me while my dajyr and I were sleeping in a tavern in Pravoka; in their attempt to save us, the entire rest of our crew ended up seeing us stark naked and covered in blood. Very little fazes me when it comes to skin anymore.”

Su barked a surprised laugh. “I’m fascinated by how blithely you mention kidnapper-assassins. Is that all in a day’s work for you now?”

“Ah… Something like that, yeah.” An embarrassed flush crept across Aviva’s cheeks; she had forgotten such outlandish stories were not common conversation.

“Lie back, then. Let me know if you get cold and I’ll grab you a blanket.” Su fussed with the pillows for a time, tucking them into place to ensure Aviva was as comfortable as possible. Retrieving a small pot of paint and a thin brush from the table, Su brushed the outline of the drawing onto Aviva’s skin, laying out the curves and edges, ensuring symmetry. Once she had finished, she reached under the table and produced a hand mirror. “Placement alright?”

Aviva smiled at her reflection in the glass. “Very.” She still looked tired, as if she hadn’t slept a full night in days, but the despair in the lines of her face had been replaced by something else: determination. She passed the mirror back to Su and spread her hands on her stomach. “Let’s do this.”

With a nod, Su launched into her pre-session spiel. They both knew Aviva was perfectly aware of what was in store, but it was standard for her craft. Tattoos are permanent modifications to the body, she recited with a somewhat wry expression, and cannot be removed by any means short of magic. Inside the tent was a safe space, the modifications a type of transformative ritual, and Aviva’s only responsibilities were to relax, breathe, and listen to her body’s needs. Su would be there to guide her verbally if she wanted it, and to work in quiet if she did not. If she required a break at any point, for water or a snack or to process something that had been drawn to the surface, she needed only to indicate and they would pause. Aviva nodded her confirmation, oddly comforted by the familiarity of the words, if not the voice repeating them. There was no turning back now.

Su dipped her needle in the pot of ink and tapped away the excess. Aviva breathed.

Her heart pounded. Her skin burned. Her mind descended, the pain in her chest reaching its fingers through the darkness into every part of her. It touched the tightening in her lungs, the paralysing fear of death and loss that gnawed at her in nightmares and dreamscapes. It touched the twisting in her stomach, the searing guilt for so often taking her mother’s love for granted, the one person who always loved her and now sat in bondage. It touched the tension in her arms, the desperate need to cling to those she loved, to guard their tiny flickering flames against the hurricane of hate and fear that defined her existence. It touched the pressure in her ribcage, where Jaxa’s twisted, monstrous version of love threatened to seep like poison into the cracks in her bones. It touched the disquiet in her legs, that longed for the days she felt wild and free even once she had realised that that freedom came at the cost of truly connecting with anyone. It touched the bitterness in her throat, the hate she bore herself for being a walking open wound, always crying, always needy, for wishing to be the protector and instead becoming the protected…

“Stop,” she whispered.

Instantly, the needle halted and Su’s hands withdrew from her chest. “What do you need?”

Aviva gritted her teeth, brow furrowing above closed eyes. “I don’t want to cry again.”

“Why not?”

“It’s all I’ve been doing for days.” She fought for a measured breath. “I just keep crying and it feels like it’ll never stop. I’m tired of crying.”

“Sometimes it’s what your soul needs,” Su prompted gently.

“It feels weak.”

“You know it’s not.” Tentatively, Su took Aviva’s hand. “You _know_ it’s not.”

“…I know.”

Clinging to the Elf’s little fingers, Aviva covered her eyes with her free hand and sobbed.

* * *

By the time her weeping had eased, she was shivering. She knew her body was not cold, merely experiencing the aftereffects of the receding emotional tide, but she acknowledged the validity of the sensation and accepted the offered blanket with a grateful nod. When she was ready, Su resumed her work. They stopped twice more as waves of tears broke against her shores, but they were smaller now, easier. She accepted that she needed to cry, and she let the ripples come.

Eventually, as her consciousness returned more fully to the present, they began to speak as friends. Su had grown up in Aelfheim, she learned, moving from one poor neighbourhood to another as her parents searched for work. She had always felt a connection to the gods and for a time had considered entering the priesthood, but found hedge magic had always appealed to her more than robes and churches – much to her father’s disappointment, she noted with a purse of her lips. For years she worked as a street artist drawing portraits for tourists, but getting her first tattoo led her down the path of the body as canvas. She had met Mae at a festival a few summers prior and struck up a conversation about the intricate designs on her tail; the rest, she said, was history.

“It’s over.” Setting down her needle and dipping her cleaning cloth in its bowl of herbal tincture, Su smiled. “You made it through.”

With a heavy groan, Aviva pushed herself up to sitting, letting the blanket fall into her lap. “I feel like I’ve been to the underworld and back.”

“In some ways, you have.” Su pressed the cloth to the fresh ink, carefully wiping away the excess. “Do you need water or a snack?”

“No, thank you. What time is it?”

Su hummed and turned on her cushion to peek beneath a corner of the tent’s window covering. “Early evening?”

“Oh. _Oh._ ” Aviva’s brows rose, then she huffed a soft laugh. “I don’t think I told anyone where I went. I just sort of left on a wander. Reliving my misspent youth, evidently.”

“Will your friends be worried?”

“Nah.” Aviva waved a dismissive hand. “They trust me to take care of myself.” She froze mid-gesture and silently repeated her statement. “…Huh.”

Hiding a knowing smirk, Su slid the mirror from beneath the table. “Your journey, friend. Have a look.”

Aviva’s breath caught in her throat. She had approved the sketch, had watched the image form upside-down on her skin, but seeing it in full flight was something entirely new: a phoenix, constructed of notes and staves and delicate filigree, its body a treble clef, its wings stretching to her collarbones. Su had turned the runes on her sternum into one of the bird’s tails, as if the talisman had always meant to become a part of something larger. It was exquisite, the blackwork somehow vibrant and alive, ringed in the smoky grey outline of its flames. Silently, she nodded.

Reaching beneath Aviva’s arms, Su began to wrap her torso in long strips of clean bandage, rattling off her physical and spiritual aftercare instructions. She helped the Tiefling wriggle back into her kurta and advised her to wear looser clothing for the next few days. Aviva bobbed her head along with Su’s list and refused her offered discount, tipping generously to make up the difference. Finally, she rose, rolling out the stiffness in her spine. “I needed this. You have no idea how much I needed this. Thank you.”

Su flushed, her professional demeanour melting back into the shy, restive Elf Aviva had met just a few hours ago. “You needed this, but I think I needed to be the one to give it to you. So thank you for that.” She paused, and after a moment, she took Aviva’s larger hand in both of hers. “I can tell you don’t often feel like a hero. Whatever you’ve got going on inside of you won’t let you see yourself as special. But you are. I can tell that just from an afternoon working with you. Your spirit is good. Your best is good. _You_ are good. Chaos is going to try and tell you otherwise, but… fuck ‘em. Be the light in the darkness that guides us home, even those we’re worried are lost. They’ll follow you. Be a hero.”

For a long time, Aviva said nothing, stunned into silence by sincerity of the Elf’s words. Then she grinned. “Do you want to get something to eat? I don’t know about you, but I’m suddenly starving.” She softened into a smile and squeezed Su’s hands. “And I’ll never be so rich as to turn away a friend.”

Su considered, then returned the smile. “Yeah. I’d like that.”

**Author's Note:**

> Title song by Rising Appalachia.
> 
> Follow me on Tumblr at @expressandadmirable for a proper table of contents for the Heroes campaign, commissioned character art, text-based roleplay snippets and more!


End file.
